


A Lovely Mess

by hemmotoxicity



Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-30
Updated: 2016-01-28
Packaged: 2018-04-12 01:01:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,171
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4459295
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hemmotoxicity/pseuds/hemmotoxicity
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Luke is broken and Calum wants to fix him. Sequel to <i><a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/4404785">Words I Never Said</a></i>. Title taken from a song of the same name as performed by <i>Front Porch Step</i>, which you can listen to <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wU1hK8XXRcQ">here</a>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. un

His head feels heavy, he realised, as his eyes roam his surroundings.

 

He wasn't at home - that much was obvious. The bed he was lying down on was too white, too clinical -

 

Why was he still alive?

 

The bedsheet shifts in spite of him being frozen on the spot - and for the first time, he notices the male sitting beside the bed, his hair an unruly mess of black curls standing out in stark contrast from where they rested against the white sheets.

 

"Calum?"

 

His voice sounds weak and strained, almost as if he hadn't spoken in years. He doubts it was loud enough to pull the other from sleep, so he lifts one pale hand and rests it on the male's shoulder, shaking him awake.

 

"Calum."

 

His tone was more forceful this time, and his hand only ceases its movement when his companion finally stirs.

 

"You're awake," are the first words Calum says, his features breaking out into an expression of absolute relief, and Luke almost feels bad when he mumbles "I don't want to be here anymore."

 

Almost - but not quite.

 

"The hospital? Well, now that you've woken up, you should be out of here soon, Lukey."

 

Luke tries not to cringe at the nickname. It was from simpler times, when his most pressing dilemma was how he'd forgotten to phone his mother the night before, or the fact that he'd worn the same shirt two concerts in a row.

 

Things weren't that simple anymore.

 

"That wasn't what I meant."

 

He doesn't miss the way Calum's face falls at his statement, but he wouldn't take his words back even if he could - they held nothing but truth, after all.

 

"Luke, why did you do it?" Calum asks after a while. He sounds tired, worry marring his face and making him look as if he was twice his age.

 

_"You know why,"_  Luke wanted to say, but he keeps his mouth shut and leaves the words unspoken.

 

"You were going to leave us without saying goodbye."

 

"I left you letters."

 

His eyes were fixed on his restless hands and he feels as if he was sixteen again - being reprimanded for being late to school due to another late-night band rehearsal.

 

"Bullshit, Luke!" Calum snaps, his outburst startling them both. "You wrote that you were 'going away', and you didn't even mail the letters before - before - "

 

The other male stood up then, his right hand fisting in his hair the way it always did when he was frustrated. But when he speaks, his voice is faint and laced with pain.

 

"Did you even think about what would happen to the rest of us if you died?"

 

"Well maybe I just wanted to think about myself for once!" Luke retorts, not knowing where his newfound confidence came from but deciding not to question it. "The only reason I didn't do it sooner was because of you guys. My family, the band, our fans - it was never about me, which is pretty ironic considering how this is my life and I should be able to do whatever the hell I want to."

 

"You're a part of our lives too, Luke. You don't get to walk away from us."

 

Luke laughs then - a low, humourless laugh.

 

"Obviously not. I'm alive right now, aren't I?"

 

Calum's face twists in pain, and Luke almost feels bad for saying those words.

 

Almost - but not quite.


	2. deux

Seven days, two band meetings, and a ton of forced meals later, he's finally free to go.

 

Luke was more than happy to leave the tiny room he's been forced to call home for the past week - the stale air was a heady mixture of blood, medicine, and disinfectant.

 

Simply put, he thought it smelled like disease.

 

Unfortunately, being discharged didn't equate to escaping his garrulous bandmates. What he wanted more than anything was to be left alone with his thoughts, but seeing as the three males were about to spend the night in his flat, he wouldn't be able to let his walls crumble down and just  _feel_.

 

However, the alternative was to spend the following week with his parents, so this - a mere night of trying to participate in lively chatter and acting like he's doing all right - was a compromise he was more than willing to take.

 

"Luke."

 

He snaps out of his thoughts then, looking up to find that the other three had stepped out of Ashton's  _Ford_.

 

"We're here." Michael supplies, prompting Luke to climb off of the vehicle and walking alongside the others as the group made its way to the lift at the end of the car park.

 

Luke keeps his silence all the way to the flat he called home, pretending to be interested as the band goes through the unnecessary discussion regarding which pizza flavour to order - goodness knows they'd end up getting pepperoni anyway - and ignoring the furtive glances his friends gave him every once in a while.

 

He supposed he should take part in the conversation - he didn't want any of them to grow worried and stay longer than a night, after all - but he simply couldn't be bothered to. They couldn't really expect him to be fine, now, can they? Especially since he'd attempted to take his own life. It would be ridiculous to think that he'd be all right after pulling a stunt like  _that_.

 

The rest of the night pans out just like every single band sleepover they've ever had - even at his age, Michael was still adamant about his love for video games, and Calum felt just as strongly when it comes to FIFA - and everything feels so  _normal_ that Luke wanted to stab himself in the eye.

 

It struck him that, if he closed his eyes and listened to the drone of the game and the occasional string of swear words, he could almost pretend that he was still fifteen years old - full of hope and clutching onto dreams of performing in front of massive crowds. He wanted to feel like that again, wanted to run away from this empty shell of a man that he's become. He longed for everything to go back to the way it was, the way it should be.

 

But he wasn't fifteen anymore. He was twenty-four - nearly twenty-five - and it was as if he could feel the weight of the world on his shoulders. He's aware that he probably shouldn't let this happen to himself, that he shouldn't let the issue - shouldn't let  _her_  - get the better of him, but he simply couldn't help it. He couldn't just forget the past four years as if they meant nothing, because during that time, his entire world revolved around  _her_.

 

They head to sleep at half past one, Ashton and Calum taking the bed on the guest room and Michael settling for the couch - the others knew he probably wouldn't be sleeping for another hour or so.

 

Luke is simply grateful that none of them asked to share his bed. In his opinion, his bandmates worried about him far too much, and sleeping alone felt like a small victory - as if he had eased their worries enough to leave him to his own devices for a while. Trusting him was a poor choice, really, but at least he wasn't about to cut into his wrist or down another container of pills.

 

Lying there in the dark, it occurs to him that this was the most time they'd all spent together in months. He knew he should be thrilled, but in all honesty, he hasn't felt more empty in his life.

 

And as his hand smooths down the other side of the bed, he knows exactly why.


	3. trois

He awoke to the familiar sound of swearing and videogame gunfire.

 

Lying there with his pillow over his head, trying in vain to block out the noise, he could almost fool himself into thinking that he was sixteen again — sleeping over at Michael's on a weekend.

 

But he was fully aware that the racket wasn't bound to die anytime soon, so when he finally cracks an eye open and his gaze falls onto the empty space beside him, he's thrown sharply back into the present.

 

He ignores the pain that was still taking up residence in his chest — even after five months of separation — and rolls out of bed, not bothering to change out of his boxers and worn-out _How I Met Your Mother_ shirt before stumbling out of his room, Michael barely acknowledging him as he passed the orange-haired male on his way to the kitchen.

 

"Morning," Ashton greets him, looking up from his bowl of _Frosted_ _Flakes_.

 

Luke only gives him a nod in return, grateful that the drummer hadn't said _"good_ _morning"_ , or he might've been tempted to ask, " _what's so good about the morning?"_

 

"What time are you guys leaving, again?"

 

He tries to make the question sound as casual as he possibly could, and he thinks he actually succeeds as he heats up two leftover pizza slices.

 

"About that..." Ashton began, and those two words were enough to have Luke spinning on his heel.

 

He wanted his bandmates out of his house, because he couldn't find it within himself to pretend that he was doing fine all the damn time. He wouldn't be able to bear having to sit through countless meals rife with concerned glances thrown his way.

 

He needed to be alone, needed time to heal — if he would ever be able to — and most of all, he needed the freedom to act as he pleased without having to worry about what other people might think.

 

They simply had to go.

 

"Mikey and Calum are leaving in about three hours." says Ashton, pushing bits of his cereal around the bowl, a gesture that simply didn't fit his age.

 

"And what about you?" Luke asks, his tone oddly calm despite the panic that was bubbling right underneath the surface.

 

"I think I'm staying just a little while longer."

 

Luke takes a deep breath then, taking his food out of the microwave and fighting to keep his voice level.

 

"How much longer?" he asks, aiming for the same casual tone he'd used a few moments prior but falling short.

 

"A month." Ashton replies, his voice quiet — but Luke hears him anyway.

 

"I'll be fine, Ash." he says through gritted teeth.

 

He's positive that the tense set of his jaw was enough to alert the curly-haired male that he in no way approved of this idea.

 

"You should leave too."

 

"I don't think you should be alone right now." Ashton states matter-of-factly, shrugging as he placed his empty bowl in the sink.

 

"Listen," Luke began, hands gripping the edge of the kitchen island, "I know you're worried about me, but you can't stay here forever."

 

"It's only a month, Luke. I just want to keep an eye on you, is all."

 

"I'm not a _child_. I can handle myself."

 

"Can you?"

 

And those two words were enough to send him over the edge. He spun around, hands clenched into fists, brows creasing into a frown as he prepares to give Ashton a piece of his mind —

 

"What's going on?"

 

Calum walks into the kitchen then, seemingly oblivious to the tension charging the atmosphere with nervous energy. His brows are raised questioningly, looking at the pair expectantly with his hands stuffed within the pockets of his sweats.

 

"Just telling Luke that I'll be staying for a while longer, is all." Ashton supplies, sounding every bit the pacifist.

 

Luke hated it, hated how the older male's tone made him sound infinitely more mature, his own righteous anger seemingly petty next to Ashton's argument — so it's small wonder that his next words come out scathing.

 

"I'm not gonna off myself, if that's what you were worried about." he spat, and the way both of his bandmates winced were nearly enough to make him regret what he'd said.

 

"Are you sure? Because we didn't even _think_ you were the kind to — "

 

The conversation was one train wreck after another, and Calum stepped in before matters could get any worse.

 

"Ash, stop," the raven-haired boy says, prompting the drummer to stare at him with furrowed brows, his expression that of incredulity.

 

"Oh, you're telling _me_ to stop? He was the one who — "

 

"I already _told_ you that I don't want you here! Why is that so hard for you to — "

 

"Enough!" Calum yells, causing the apartment to fall silent — even the underlying noise emanating from the videogame seemed to have stopped.

 

"Ash, you're leaving with Michael. I'm staying with Luke."

 

It sounds businesslike, final — as if neither Luke nor Ashton had any say in the matter, but Luke finds himself nodding all the same.

 

Out of everyone in the band, Calum was perhaps the least likely to poke his nose into Luke's business, the exact opposite of Ashton himself — who was always two shades shy of being a stage mother.

 

Yeah, he could handle living with Calum.

**Author's Note:**

> not gonna lie, i'm kinda stoked for this. comments and kudos are highly appreciated. you can also read this story on wattpad (link [here](https://www.wattpad.com/story/22060409-words-i-never-said-%E2%86%A3-lrh)).


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